http://www.friendshipsloopamity.com-sailing,Belfast,Maine

"Friendship was the finest all-round vessel ever built. Fust ones was built down Bremen. They was called Muscongus sloops then. But Wilbur Morse, he lived over to Friendship. He shaped 'em up a bit an' called 'em Friendship Sloops. That Wilbur. He said 'A Friendship sloop is a sloop built in Friendship by Wilbur Morse.' Like to hear a yarn?....

" You folks watch any of them Westerns on the TV nowadays?"

The old man shifted gears pretty fast.

" You know how them cowhorses always stand an' wait around while the rider gits off an' goes someplace?"

Well. He was old, and the minds of old people wonder around a bit. Yes , we knew how the faithful horse always stood around.

"Well, a Friendship allus did that, too. With her two little headsails an' her big main you'd warp her up into the breeze alongside a lobster trap. Bring the main amidships, luff up. An' that vessel'd stand there quiet's you please while you tended the trap. She'd wait all day if you wuz of a mind. Didn't need no engine power. Folks who lived on the island offshore all had Friendships. Work 'em hard all week, then take the womenfolk an' kids to town on Sat'day. Dry boat. Wear your Sunday go-to-meetin' clothes an' nary git a drop of water on 'em. High in the bow, low in the waist. Sheer. Purty. Last one I owned was 28 feet. Name of Amy. Long time ago. Long time."

"Amy was your wife's name?" Betty asked softly. The old man pushed himself off the stump. He rubbed a spot in his back, straightened up slowly, tugged the bill of his cap lower over his eyes, as though the sun bothered them.

" Ayeh," his voice was just a whisper." Fished her over 20 years. The Friendship that is. The other Amy - my wife - married to her 53 years, She died, nine weeks ago yesterday. The old man turned, straightened his back slowly, and on legs stiff with time, headed off to the house "just over the hogback."

N.C. Wyeth, father of Andrew, immortalized the part Friendship sloops played in the lives of Maine seacoast people when he painted An Island Funeral. Its locale is Teel Island, off Port Clyde. There is a Cape Cod house on the shore. People stand in front of it. People stand on the shore, too. A few small boats drawn up. A short way out are two Friendship Sloops, bearing mourners. Somber. A quiet painting. Friendship Sloops were there, in mourning or joy. In work or play. They were a vital part of coastal life…

About the Friendship Sloop

For more than a century, the Friendship Sloop “Amity” has sailed the waters of Maine and New England.

“Amity” is one of the oldest surviving Friendship Sloops. Built in 1901 at the boat shop of Wilbur A. Morse in Friendship, Maine, “Amity”, like her sisterships, was originally used for lobstering.

Morse is credited with developing the Friendship Sloop and the design quickly gained renown for its ease of handling and exceptional seaworthiness.

The original Friendship Sloops had to earn livings for their owners who used them for fishing and hauling cargoes along the rugged Maine coast. They performed equally well in the calms of summer and icy gales of winter.

The Friendship Sloop played an honored role in Maine’s maritime history.

The age of commercial sail gave way to power and “Amity’s” lobstering career ended. Converted to a pleasure craft, “Amity” was cared for by a series of owners including James R. Wiggins, the former editor of the Washington Post, owner of the Ellsworth American newspaper, and President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Ambassador to the United Nations.

The Friendship Sloop “Amity” is again back to work, sailing passengers from the scenic harbor of Belfast, Maine.

Excerpt from Innocents at Sea, by James A. McCracken:

I turned and paused. An old man was sitting on a stump ten feet away. How long he had been there I did not know. He was looking at us.

"Hello, I didn't see you there."

"Watched you come in. Spend a lot of time just watchin' the boats." He sighed. "Ayeh," he breathed.

"Do you live around here?" "Just over the hogback." He inclined his head. "Right smart sloop you got there. Purty."

We thanked him. Betty moved closer. He must have been eighty years old. He was dressed in faded khaki. His cap had a long bill that fisherman favor. His eyes were faded blue, blue and misty.

"You know something about sailing boats," I ventured.

"By God I do," he replied with some strength. "Ought to. Sailed Friendships long afore the first big war."

"Friendship Sloops?"

"Ayeh. Fished 'em."

"Lobstering?"

"Lobster an' shrimp. When lobstering was bad I went shrimpin'."

We waited.